Friends
by The Crow and the Butterfly
Summary: Maybe for a little while they hadn't been regular friends, but there was no reason they couldn't go back. "The good old days before anybody slept with anybody else. Remember that?" One-shot, TonoMisaki.


This is by far the longest thing I've ever written and it took for-EVER. I really only expected it to get to three thousand words, tops, but it sort of spiraled out of control. I don't even know how I ended up talking about Star Wars.

Well, at least I've got any lingering Tono/Misaki out of my system.

Things I do not own, among many: Gakuen Alice, Star Wars, Juno.

* * *

She showed up at his door on November third, a few hours into evening. It was raining just enough to make things dreary, and it trickled down the windows with an infuriating slowness. Her hair was curling softly in the damp air, her cheeks were flushed, and it crossed his mind for a fleeting moment that she was beautiful.

Before he got a word out, she stumbled in and threw herself into his faded blue sofa. She drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in them, brushing the loose tangles of hair that had slipped from her haphazard bun agitatedly from her face. He closed the door quietly after sticking his head out and looking down the hall to see if anyone else had come with her, then turned back towards the woman curled up in the corner of his couch.

"You're alone, then?" Tono asked her quietly, a bit unsure what he was supposed to do in this situation. "Why?"

"I left," she replied thickly, swallowing hard. "I walked out."

He leaned back against the shelf by the entrance, purposely avoiding looking at her by watching the ceiling fan. "Why?"

"I don't even know." She trembled, and Tono found his way to her side in an instant, sitting down beside her and moving his hand in slow, calming circles on her back. "It seemed like the right thing to do, at the time, but I don't even remember…"

"You should probably go back, you know," he murmured soothingly, reaching up to stroke her hair. "I know Tsubasa. Whatever it is you've done, he'll forgive you, but it'll be tougher if you stay here and he finds out."

Misaki's eyes met his, her expression serious, but with a hint of defiance. "I can't go back now."

"You've gone back before."

"Exactly," she replied by way of explanation, looking away again. "But I won't anymore. I can't put up with this. We're really through this time."

Tono shook his head in disbelief. "That's just… impossible. You know it is, Misaki. You've been together so long, I can't imagine you apart. No one can."

She straightened. "I can't just be… defined by him. We're not MisakiandTsubasa. We're separate people, and I think he needs to realize that." She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "I think I need to realize that."

"Jesus, Misaki." Tono blinked rapidly, withdrawing a little bit. They were closer than he'd realized. "He loves you. He loves you more than anything."

He froze as her hand reached out for him, settling around the nape of his neck and bringing him back. Their noses touched, he could feel her breath on his lips. "You know," she whispered, a touch of a strong emotion that he couldn't quite identify in her voice and a bit more than a touch of alcohol, Tono noticed, on her breath. "I think he might have loved me too much."

"I've got no idea what you're talking about," he muttered stiffly. "You've been drinking."

"So?"

"So? You don't know what you're saying!" He lifted her chin, and she narrowed her eyes at him boldly. "I need you to just go home, Misaki. If you stay here, I know you're going to regret it."

"No." Misaki replied steadily. "It's not as if I'm _that_ drunk. I'm not going to just do what you tell me. I'm not going to regret anything."

She was far too close, intoxicatingly close. "What do you want from me? What am I supposed to tell you?"

"You're supposed to take my side," she murmured quietly, drawing him closer so that their lips brushed as she spoke.

"What's your side, then?"

"I don't know." Misaki bit her lip, her voice wavering. "I don't know. I don't know anything. I don't want to figure things out right now."

Tono was utterly at a loss, and merely repeated her name with an uncharacteristic tenderness. "Misaki…"

They were in bed together in ten minute's time.

xx

In the end, he mused, lying awake that night, he never knew whether he kissed her or she kissed him. It didn't matter, he supposed. He'd always been about the end result, rather than the why or the how. And if the end result involved ending up in bed with a woman he'd only dreamed of, then it was usually fine by him. But even he had moral standards, and Misaki Harada should have been completely off-limits.

He'd pushed her away, at first, finding excuses. "We really shouldn't be… Tsubasa'll find out, he'll be heartbroken…" He didn't clearly remember what she'd said, or, more likely, what she'd done, but he'd run out of reasons to say no.

She'd called him Tsubasa.

The name slipped out in a moment of wild ecstasy, and he froze with the realization that it had been the only name she'd ever needed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pointedly not meeting his eyes. "Just... keep going. Please."

It was in the moments after they'd collapsed, exhausted, when she voiced what they were both thinking. "I'm a terrible person."

He rolled over and took her in his arms, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Well, do you feel terrible?"

"I'm sure there are plenty of serial killers who don't _feel_ terrible," she muttered.

"That's not what I'm asking," he murmured in reply. "Do you?"

She managed a weak smile. "I think I'll have to sleep on it."

xx

Misaki woke to the sun hitting her face at an irritating angle and music from the kitchen quietly seeping under the door. Slightly dazed, she found her clothes and pulled one of his oversized sweaters off the back of a chair. She shrugged it on and wrapped herself in it, shivering.

He was leaning back in a tall chair, his feet propped up on the kitchen counter and a cup of coffee in his hands. She found herself trying to look nonchalant, leaning against the doorframe and hooking her thumbs in her pockets. "'Morning."

Tono looked up at her, and she was surprised by the way his eyes softened. "Hey." He pushed a mug across the granite counter, the look on his face suggesting that it stood as a peace offering. "I made you coffee. You could probably use it."

"Thanks," she muttered, taking the steaming cup.

"So," he started, leaning forwards over the counter. "How long are we going to avoid the subject?"

"I figured we were going to talk about the weather some," she replied, laughing quietly. "And then stand around awkwardly for a bit until I left."

He sighed, stirring his coffee and brushing his hair back. "Come on, now. I'm not that kind of guy."

"Yes, you are."

"Alright, alright, most of the time I am that kind of guy," he admitted. "But you have to agree that this is somewhat of a… special case."

Misaki put her hand up to her heart, smiling sarcastically. "Aww… I'm special. How sweet of you."

"Oh, you know what I mean," said Tono, rolling his eyes exasperatedly. "We're hardly strangers. You're pretty much the love of Tsubasa's life. Hell, you're practically my little sister."

"Again with the Tsubasa," she muttered bitterly.

Tono stood up and moved to the other side of the counter, forcing Misaki to look up at him. "Look. I really think you need to go talk to him and work whatever it is out. You can't just let things end like this."

She stared directly into his eyes, as defiantly as the evening previous. "Well, I can't go back now. I think this pretty much sealed the deal. It's over, Tono. This time for real."

"Fine, then." He moved away, putting his hands up in surrender. "Don't take my advice. But hey, if sleeping with old school friends is part of your coping strategy, then I think I've got Megane's number here somewhere. I'm sure he'd just _love_ to give it a—"

She slapped his arm. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Making me sound like a whore."

He scoffed indignantly. "Well, you _are_ the one who barged into my apartment last night, drunk, and practically threw yourself at me."

"I did not _throw_ myself at anyone!" Misaki exclaimed. "And I was_ not_ drunk!"

"Alright, _partway_ drunk, same difference." Tono shifted uncomfortably, realizing that she had him backed up against the granite counter. He met her level gaze for a few long moments before speaking again. "Would you still have slept with me if you weren't?"

She unfalteringly gave the answer he hadn't expected, her back stiffening. "Maybe."

He was somewhat lost for a comeback. "Well."

"Am I just too sexy to resist, then?" she asked teasingly, poking him firmly in the chest while the edges of her lips formed a bold smirk.

"Maybe," he echoed, partly for the truth and partly for the effect.

Misaki chuckled softly. "Well."

He took her face in his hands without warning, his fingers stroking her skin lightly before tangling in her hair. She gasped in surprise as he caught her in a long, breathless kiss that nearly swept her clear off her feet.

"I… I should probably be going now," she muttered quietly, staring pointedly at her feet.

He waved. "If you ever need anything…"

"Need what, exactly?"

"Oh, just anything. We're…" Tono found himself stumbling over the word. "Friends. That's what friends are for."

"Friends don't fuck each other," Misaki pointed out bluntly. "At least, not regular friends."

"Maybe, for a little while last night, we weren't regular friends." He drained the rest of his cup and set it down on the counter. "No reason we can't go back."

She shot him a confused glance. "To last night?"

He yawned widely before he could answer. "No. To before. To when we were regular friends. The good old days before anybody slept with anybody else. Remember that?"

"Good times," she said, turning to stare distantly out the window.

"So, do we never speak of this again?" he asked.

She paused with her hand on the doorknob and a vague grin on her face. "We'll see."

xx

She pressed on the doorbell a few more times than necessary the next afternoon, cutting the tune off three times before allowing it to ring through the entryway. Tono liked to tell himself that he'd mostly forgotten about the incident, but the reluctant truth was that he'd answered the door a little too eagerly over the last three weeks. He wasn't quite sure what he'd been expecting, but he was positive of what he'd tried to keep himself from hoping.

And that was why he found himself hopping up from the counter and nearly overturning a barstool only to finally find himself face to face with someone he'd all at once wanted to talk to and wished to avoid.

"Hello," Misaki began brightly. "Can I crash here until I find myself a place?"

"Er…What?"

"Oh, and I have your sweater." She shoved a black mass of fabric into his arms and slung her shoulder bag onto the sofa. "So can I stay?"

Tono leaned casually against the back of a nearby chair. "Why me?"

"Because I knew you'd say yes," Misaki explained. He cocked an eyebrow as if to say, "Oh really?" She heaved a sigh, grinning vaguely. "I knew you'd think you might be able to get me in bed again."

His brows rose even higher. "Conceited much?"

She slapped his shoulder in a way that looked teasing but probably hid some retaliatory antagonism. "That's beside the point. Yes or no?"

He groaned.

"If you don't, I'll be forced to seduce you. Shouldn't be too hard."

Her confidence was extremely irritating, and also a little suspicious. "You seem like you've gotten over it pretty well."

Misaki bit her lip, looking away. "You helped."

He snorted. "Oh, don't give me that. You've just gone and broken up with the man you grew up with, the one who's loved you since forever. Sleeping with someone else is supposed to make you feel worse, not— Look at me, Misaki!" Her head snapped up, taken aback by his snarl, but before he could register that her shocked expression wasn't a trick of the light, she reassumed her defensive glare that he'd seen too often over the past couple days, jaw set and eyes flaming.

"What were you trying to do, then?" she replied, as coolly as she could manage. "Guilt me into going back?"

He was caught off guard. "What? No, I… "

"What, then?" she demanded boldly. "I'm supposed to be in emotional turmoil, what's your excuse?"

As always, she had him backed in to a corner, but this time forgoing the literal sense. "I don't know, goddamnit!" Tono shouted. "I don't know. And I feel terrible about the whole thing."

She laughed quietly. "Out of all the fucked up things you do, this is what you're ashamed of."

"Look. I know you." He swallowed hard, at high risk of sounding like an idiot. "You mean a lot to me. I can't just take advantage of you when you're in, as you so excellently put it, emotional turmoil."

The expression on her face was infuriating. "You're trying to be the good guy, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "I figure a good guy's a good thing to be."

"If you were really a good guy, you wouldn't leave me homeless."

He was tired of fighting, and she had a good point, more or less. "Fine. Do what you want."

xx

"You take it."

"No, you."

He stared down at his bed, that he was now somewhat wishing he'd made that morning. "You're the guest. You take it."

She shook her head, with an expression of mild disgust. "I can't imagine what you do in that bed, and whatever it is, I don't want to touch it. You take it."

"Thank you for making me feel disgusting." He shot her a look while silently deciding whether or not to mention that she'd been perfectly willing to get in it the other night. He felt it would be somewhat tactless, not to mention he didn't want to pick another fight, so he decided against it. "Anything that's happened on that bed's also happened on the couch, so unless you want to sleep on the kitchen counter, you'd better make up your mind."

"I'm a bit apprehensive about the counter as well, to tell the truth," said Misaki with a faint smirk. He rolled his eyes, and she continued. "But I guess your bed hasn't killed me thus far." She fell back on it, bouncing up and down a couple times. "Speaking of what you do or do not do in your kitchen, what were you planning on doing for dinner?"

"Oh, I dunno," he shrugged. "Order pizza or something."

"Just curious, but do you ever cook?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'm lazy. Sue me."

"Fine, then," she replied. Silently, she got up and strode into his kitchen as if she owned the place, to his annoyance, pulling open the refrigerator and peering inside. "You know what you need to do?" she finally stated.

"Marry someone who can cook?"

She opened her mouth to disagree, but thought on it for a moment. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. But no." She stuck her head in the fridge again, making sure she hadn't missed anything, which, to tell the truth, was hard to do, and conjured up a doppelganger to go poke around in the cabinets. "All you've got is butter, ice cream, cheese, milk, a banana, and beer. Really, Tono. Really. You need to go shopping."

"Ah, no," her duplicate added from the other side of the room. "He's got Cheerios, too."

He shrugged. "If you're so opposed to pizza, then we could have banana splits." He paused a moment. "With beer."

The two Misakis turned towards him, each placing a hand on their hip and sighing lightly in perfect unison. "You're hopeless."

"Well," he replied, a bit defensively, and a bit unsure which one to talk to. "Can you cook?"

"Not with what you've got, no."

He sighed wearily. "Got my hopes up a little there."

The Misaki closest to the phone seized it and thrust it at him. "That's it. Call for a pizza."

He put up his hands. "If you don't want to, then…"

The pair of them glared menacingly. "Oh, just do it."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Jesus, you don't have to go all 'Attack of the Clones' on me."

"They're doppelgangers, actually," she corrected, sniffing in a somewhat affronted way. "After the whole incident with the Elementary School Principal that one time, I'd rather you know the difference."

Tono gazed at her, a slightly agonized expression on his face. "Come on, Misaki. Let me have the Star Wars joke, just this once."

She blinked, her doppelganger disappearing with a quiet pop. "Star what?"

He laughed in disbelief. "You have to know Star Wars. It's actually impossible to have gone through twenty-two years of life without hearing of it." She merely shook her head, and the grin slid off his face. "Oh, come on. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Darth Vader. Luke Skywalker. R2-D2."

She giggled. "What have _you_ been smoking?"

"Where have _you _been living since 1977?" he demanded, his tone suggesting that he took her ignorance personally. "Under a rock?"

"As good as," she scoffed. "Over seventeen of those twenty-two years were spent at the Academy. And judging by the sound of it, I'm guessing this isn't something you'd show to your toddler."

He brushed back his hair with his customary flourish. "You do realize what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

"That you're spending the next twelve hours or so catching up on what you've missed," he replied with an excited grin.

She heaved an angst-ridden sigh. "Oh boy."

xx

They were lying on the couch beneath his blankets, a good ways into "A New Hope," when the pizza came. She decided that if they were going to pull an all-nighter, they may as well make a proper movie night of it. They'd pulled everything from his bed, turned off every light, and taken what remained of the six-pack from the poorly stocked fridge. Misaki had claimed the comforter right away, which Tono had promptly protested was unfair. They ended up sharing, each leaning against one arm of the sofa. Their legs were too long for only half the couch, resulting in an awkward overlap. Misaki had tucked her feet between his side and the back of the couch to keep them warm, which Tono found to be a distracting combination of poking him in the ribs and turning him on.

He reluctantly got up when the doorbell rang, shivering on the way to the entry. Ignoring Misaki's shout of surprise at her suddenly freezing feet, he opened the door and wordlessly grabbed the pizza box, shoving the money into the slightly surprised delivery boy's hands.

Misaki ignored her feet and sat up eagerly when he came back and set the box on the coffee table. "Excellent," she said, reaching for a slice. "You know, if every day's going to be like this, I could end up staying here for a while."

"Wasn't your plan to get out of here as soon as possible?" he asked.

She shrugged, taking a long sip of her beer and falling back into the pillows. "We'll see." She became distracted for a moment, and pointed at the screen. "I like her."

He chuckled, glad that the conversation was turning to something he was more comfortable discussing. "Oh, you only like Leia because she's a girl."

"No I don't," she argued. "It was like that at first, because it seems like this world is ninety-five percent men, but she's growing on me. She's got spunk. See, look how she tells off this jerkwad here."

"Don't knock Solo," Tono protested. "He knows what he's doing."

"I highly doubt that," Misaki snorted. "See, if any of them knew what they were doing, they wouldn't be in a trash compactor or whatever right now. It's going to stop at the last second, just you wait."

"I know what happens, Misaki. Do you have any idea how many times I've seen this movie?"

By the end of Episode IV, he'd lay down, pulling his feet up on the cushions, and when he sat back down after putting in the next DVD, Misaki curled up against him.

He gave her a look. "I'm cold," was her excuse. "You've taken all the blanket."

Her feet tangled with his. "Are you sure this is okay with you?" she asked, as she draped an arm over his chest. "I mean, it could seem a little too… intimate, and if you're trying to avoid that…" Her fingers skimmed the skin just above the button of his jeans where his shirt had ridden up, and Tono stiffened tensely.

"S-sure," he muttered under his breath. "Whatever."

She rested her head on his shoulder, grinning amusedly. "Did you actually just stutter?"

He looked away. "I've got no idea what you're talking about."

Misaki's attention then returned to the movie. "Ah, where the hell are they?"

Tono found himself getting a lot less out of "The Empire Strikes Back" than he usually did. He subjected himself to several forms of physical and mental torture, such as pinching the inside of his arm until he swore his fingernails went clear through the skin and refusing to cringe, or even blink, as that weird snow creature on the screen got slit open for purposes of warmth, to try and keep his mind off of things he definitely didn't want it on.

Misaki suggested he get up and go get his ice cream. He yawned, feigning tiredness, and told her she should do it herself, a more tactful statement than "If you don't get the _fuck_ off me right now, I'm going to go crazy."

"Fine then," she muttered. "Maybe I will." He took the opportunity to sit up, draw his knees to his chest, and smush himself into the arm of the couch as much as physically possible.

She came back in, tossing a spoon at him that he caught with the tips of his fingers just before it hit his shoulder. "Want some?" she offered, extending the open carton in his direction as she flopped back down onto the cushions, mercifully, not touching him.

The night dragged on with a horribly frustrating slowness. The ice cream was gone in five minutes time, leaving him a movie he'd seen at least twenty times as his only distraction. Thankfully, it was keeping Misaki busy.

"Dammit!" she exclaimed, more frustrated than was probably necessary. "All this stupid tension is driving me insane. He should just screw her and save us all the irritation."

"Tell me about it," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

He cleared his throat. "I thought you were working the feminist angle here."

"I was," she said, "but this is just annoying. I thought jerkwads were supposed to be assertive."

"He's _not_ a jerkwad."

"Is too. Do you hear how he talks to her?" Misaki sighed exasperatedly. "Shouldn't you have learned by now to let it go and just stop fighting me?"

"Believe me," he scoffed, raking a restless hand through his hair. "If I am fighting anything, it isn't you."

She pushed him gently. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," he groaned.

"No, really." Misaki turned his face towards her so she could look him in the eye. "When you start spouting stuff like that, I know something's up"

Tono pushed her back. "You really have to stop doing that. You know where it gets us, and we've both expressed disinclination to be there."

"You know, I've been thinking about that," She leaned closer, draping her arms around his neck. "Is it really such a bad thing? I mean…" She stretched one leg across his, settling herself into his lap. "You're a man, I'm a woman, we're responsible adults who can do what they want…" He bit sharply down on his tongue and looked away, trying desperately to take his mind off the woman straddling him. "You're single, I'm single…" Her breath tickled his ear. "I want it… you want it." Her lips pressed tantalizingly against the side of his mouth, and he pulled her to him and kissed her and he was utterly lost.

xx

He kissed the spot above her navel, his lips lightly trailing up a few inches, and she let out a soft "Oh!" of pleasured surprise.

"You do realize that this is never going to work," he murmured quietly against her skin.

"Why not?"

He looked up at Misaki. Her head was thrown back, her face turned away, staring at nothing. "You've just left your boyfriend of five years and your best friend since forever two days ago. I'm not going to let you get in over your head."

She exhaled sharply in that way that suggested laughter. "What constitutes 'over my head,' exactly?"

"You're only on the rebound," Tono replied. "You wouldn't even think about doing this normally. I don't think you should be trying to get into relationships right now."

She shook her head. "I'm not trying to get in a relationship."

"Misaki…" he sighed. "We're having sex. Too late."

"Sex and relationships don't always go hand in hand," said Misaki. "If anything you're a prime example. This doesn't have to get into anything serious. I don't want that."

He was beginning to feel an chill of foreboding. "What are you getting at?"

"How many serious relationships have _you _had?" she questioned audaciously, propping herself up on her elbows. "It can't really be that difficult to screw a girl without getting any emotional connections. You've pulled it off countless times. Why should this be any different?"

"Christ, do you hear yourself?" Tono pushed himself up and lifted her chin. "You're different because I know you. I grew up with you. I love you." She raised an eyebrow. "In a strictly platonic, little-sisterly way, of course," he added hastily. "But we've already _got _emotional connections."

"This," she gestured to their position, intimately entangled, "doesn't look 'strictly platonic and little-sisterly' to me."

He kissed her breastbone. "So I got carried away. Don't change the subject."

Misaki laughed aloud. "What was the subject, anyway?" Her hand stroked softly through his hair, and she leaned back against the arm of the sofa again. "I believe I was offering you meaningless, indiscriminate sex, and you were saying no."

"Exactly." He nestled his head in the curve of her shoulder, and his breath on her neck sent a delicious shiver up her spine. "I'm not going to let you do this to yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just…" His words caught in his throat. "I just don't think I'm a good person for you to get involved with."

"There's no involvement at all," she coaxed. "No strings attached. Just friends."

"Misaki," he muttered. "This is absolutely _not_ just friends."

She waved a hand airily. "With benefits, so what. It's the friends part that's important."

Tono stared at her for a few long moments. "I really know I shouldn't agree to this…" he sighed resignedly.

"Is that a yes?"

He reached out blindly for the coffee table, finding a pack of cigarettes and fishing a lighter from the pocket of his discarded jeans. "We'll see." Misaki watched him with mild interest as he restlessly flicked his lighter and lit the thin paper stick in his hand.

"When did you start smoking?" she asked curiously. "It must have been before we met, but…"

"I was fourteen," he admitted, lying back against her chest and looking up at her. "I was a pretty stupid kid."

"Evidently." She settled her arms around his shoulders. "Have you ever tried to quit?"

He took a long drag, letting smoke stream from his lips. "Once or twice. But I never really bothered. I guess I'm just not dedicated enough, or whatever."

"Maybe you should try to be," she murmured tenderly into his hair.

After a moment of hesitation, he stubbed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "Maybe."

The endless music loop from the DVD main menu played until morning.

xx

She was slowly but surely driving him mad.

He'd tried to stand firm as long as possible, but it turned out that he merely couldn't. How could he expect to, if he couldn't even manage one night? After a certain point, she was simply irresistible, and it seemed as if she wasn't the one to worry about getting in over their head.

She was driving him crazy, and he couldn't put his finger on why.

He had a feeling that she was getting to him. Not in a sense that her ideas were winning him over, more that she as a person was. Misaki was quickly becoming someone he'd go to the ends of the earth for.

Every time he would have reached for a cigarette because the stress was getting to him, he didn't because she told him not to. Every time she called, he would listen, every time she wanted something, he would do his best to get it. He was going along with her crazy little arrangement that he felt positive was doomed for failure, at the possible expense of his sanity, simply because she said she wanted it that way.

Any normal person would tell him that he was in love. He'd wondered to himself about the possibility, and voiced his suspicions aloud to Misaki over breakfast one morning.

"You don't love me," she scoffed, waving a forkful of eggs at him. "Not like that. You love the sex, that's what you love."

This was without a doubt, the most fucked up relationship he'd ever been in. But no, at her insistence, it wasn't a relationship. At best, she referred to it merely as a "thing." A meaningless thing.

He had no idea why he was so irked by this. If anything, that was his usual attitude towards sex and women. But this was different, this deserved to be something. Maybe only because it was her.

The thing he was most confused about was his exact feelings towards her. If she was merely a friend to him, as she'd been before, he wouldn't want her as much as he did, and Christ, did he want her. She tempted him endlessly; the way her hips would sway, the way the light would glint off her hair, the way her eyes would burn every now and then when she looked at him. But all at once she was still a little girl, and he was her corruptor.

The guilt of what he was doing to her was almost unbearable, and weighed on his shoulders so much he feared he would be crushed flat. He found himself sinking into depression, convincing himself that everything was his fault, but in truth, he'd never be in this state if she hadn't come to his door that one rainy evening.

At one point, this would have been a dream come true, but it was making a nervous wreck out of him. She was always in control, she had to have the upper hand, it was simply her way. She did what she wanted, and what he did merely seemed to fit with it: He wanted her wholly, but she only wanted to be satisfied. He knew she was still reeling from the breakup with Tsubasa, and that there were unresolved emotions under her cool exterior, but she did a damn good job at covering them up. She always did.

He wanted to tell her she didn't have to act tough, that she didn't have to be this way, that the Misaki he had known would never get herself into a situation like this. He couldn't find the nerve to, except when she was asleep and couldn't hear him.

He would dream of her. He would dream of the sensual curve of her waist and the impossibly soft skin beneath her breasts, of the way she would throw her head back in ecstasy… She would be there when he woke up, and it would almost all be worth it.

He was going insane, he told himself, shaking his head fiercely to clear his mind. Completely insane.

xx

She breezed in through the door and tossed her coat and hat carelessly on the side table. "Guess what?"

Tono sighed, looking over his shoulder from the TV. "What?"

"I got a place," she declared, a hand on her hip. "I'm moving out of here."

"Oh." He wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to feel. She would be gone, which would be both relieving and heartbreaking, and he couldn't decide which he would rather feel. "So," he began, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Is this over, then?"

Misaki stopped short, pausing a few seconds before striding over and leaning over the back of the couch. "I don't know. What happens happens." She brushed his hair back and seductively ran her tongue over the outside of his ear. "We could try and enjoy it while it lasts…"

He shivered as her lips found their way down his jaw and her arms wound around his neck. Instead of giving in as he would have liked to, however, he found the remote and clicked off the television. "You know what we should do?" he said, a bit louder than he intended to.

She angled his face towards hers and pulled him into a kiss. "Way ahead of you."

"Not that," he muttered. "We should go out. Celebrate."

"Like a date?" She frowned. "You know I don't want to go on any—"

He disentangled himself from her arms, standing up and tugging a jacket off the arm of a chair. "Not like a date. Just two friends, going out for a drink. Nothing special." He tossed her her coat. "What d'you say?"

Misaki sat on the back of the sofa, running a hand through her hair. "You know, I think I'd like that." Tono swore he saw her blush.

xx

"My God," she muttered, rubbing her hands together, then pulling his scarf from his neck (he yelped in indignant surprise) and looping it around her own as many times as it would go. "It's too goddamn _cold_ out."

He shrugged and turned up his collar. "What am I supposed to do?"

To his mild amusement, she had an answer ready. "Carry around those little hand warmers. You know, the ones you shake?"

"I'll be sure to remember next time," he replied, rolling his eyes.

It was dark already, but the city was still illuminated. The streetlights cast interspaced pools of light onto the streams of cars, and glowing signs lined the windows of the tall buildings. The park was nearly shrouded in darkness, however, each tree casting a long shadow into the clearing. Misaki looked up at him. "We walking back?"

"Can't drive." He turned out his pockets. "Can't pay for a taxi. Have to walk. It's not that far, if we just cut through this park here."

She blinked. "But it's so _dark_."

"You afraid of the dark?" he teased, pushing her gently in the arm.

"No, it's just… Oh, shut up." The WALK sign lit up, and she dragged him across the street by the hand. "Let's get going."

As they wandered down the path that led them through a knot of trees and into a more open lawn, Misaki tilted her head back to look up at the stars. "I wish we could see them better, you know?" she asked, tightening her grip on his hand and pulling him to a stop. "The city's too bright."

"What, the stars?" Tono looked up as well, and found himself unconsciously stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "Yeah. I lived out in the middle of nowhere when I was a kid. They were really bright out there."

"Somehow, I can't imagine you in the middle of nowhere," she laughed. "You seem like a city kind of guy."

"Do I?" he replied, with a curious tone. "Ah, I liked it. They do things differently."

She raised an eyebrow, her face bathed in the faint glow from the nearest gap in the trees. "Oh really?"

"Well," he admitted, "not that different. But there are some things." He paused a moment, watching her lean back to look at the stars again. "Have you ever been star spinning?"

"Uh, I don't know what you're talking about, so I'll guess no." Her voice was suspicious. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Tono led her out into the center of the lawn, letting go of her hand once they were there and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "It's simple really. You look up, and choose a star, any star. Got one?"

After a moment of apprehensive hesitation, she did as instructed. "Yep."

"Then what you do is you spin around twenty times, and keep looking at your star, like this." He twirled in a circle, arms outstretched. "And when you're done, look at me."

Misaki turned in a few halfhearted loops before getting into it, then began to go faster and faster, giggling. "Okay, okay," she laughed, stumbling a little before looking over in his direction. "What now?"

He flicked his lighter open, and Misaki, taken aback by the sudden bright light, tumbled over with a gasp of surprise. Tono chuckled. "Fun, no?"

"Why do you have that?" she asked. "I thought you were trying to quit."

He groaned. "It's tough. Need a hand up?"

"Thanks." Misaki gratefully took his hand and stumbled to her feet. "I have a feeling this is the sort of thing you enjoy a hundred times more after a few drinks," she said, ruefully rubbing her shoulder.

"I must agree," he replied cheerfully. "Thankfully, we have had a few drinks. What do you say for another go? Watching you was certainly amusing."

"You do it too, this time," Misaki commanded. "Then we can be amused together."

It took several stars, a good bit of spinning, and much falling over before they collided and fell together, gasping for breath and watching the world spin around them. She turned to look at him, exhilarated, cheeks flushed, eyes shining, just as beautiful in shadow.

He would pinpoint that later as the moment he fell honest-to-God, head-over-heels in love with Misaki Harada. And so he did the most sensible thing: took her in his arms and kissed her, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world.

xx

She slept in his arms that night. Though he had almost completely stopped sleeping on the couch as he was supposed to, she had taken to spending nights on the edge of the bed, her back to him. That night was different. He slept lightly, drifting in and out of dreams, but always lulled back asleep by the scent of her hair and her bare skin against his.

He woke for the last time when she disentangled herself from the sheets and rolled out of bed. She didn't realize he was watching as she slipped her clothes on, gazing dreamily at her slender frame and creamy skin. He only expected her to pull on sweats, or if he was lucky, merely a shirt of his, and wander out into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, but when she put on a sweatshirt and boots, he began getting a bit anxious.

Nothing, he told himself, rolling over to try and fall back to sleep. Nothing. The next time he woke, she had a bag open, and was almost done stuffing all her things into it.

"Misaki," he murmured sleepily. "What's going on?" She didn't answer, and an icy bolt of fear rushed through him. He sat up. "Misaki," he repeated, louder. "What are you doing?"

"Toss me that shirt over there, will you?" she muttered quietly, not looking up.

Her t-shirt with the navy stripes was hanging from the nightstand. "No," he stated firmly, grabbing the shirt and clutching it tightly in his fist. "Not until you tell me why you're packing."

"I'm going to leave, aren't I? I've got my own place now," she replied, but he knew she was dodging the whole subject.

He stared at her fiercely. "If that were the case, you wouldn't just leave this early, without even telling me you were going. Tell the truth, Misaki."

"I just…." Misaki looked up at him, her expression somehow pleading. "I just can't let myself…"

"What?"

She shook her head violently, standing up and shoving open the door, dragging her bag out into the living room. Tono jumped up instantly, nearly tripping over the pair of pants he hurriedly put on as he chased after her. "Wait!" He caught her roughly by the shoulders, holding her still and looking her directly in the eye. "Can't let yourself _what_?"

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. He pulled away, raking an exasperated hand through his hair. "Can't let yourself fall for me? Is that it?" she reached out for him, but he jerked away. "I knew this would never work. I _told_ you this wouldn't work. But did you listen? No."

"Then why'd you go along with it, then?" she hissed, retracting her hand. "You could have just said no, and kicked me out."

"I love you!" he shouted furiously, grabbing her shoulders again. "It was because I fucking love you. And now you're going to walk out on me, like you did Tsubasa, because you started to love me too."

"It's not you." she murmured, pointedly staring somewhere just behind him. "If it was anyone else, I would leave too."

He scoffed derisively. "Oh, so you've got no problem with sex, but once things start getting emotional, you start feeling guilty and bail."

Misaki met his eyes, her expression blazing. "I learned from the best."

"I was stupid," he muttered, somewhat stymied.

"Damn right you're stupid," she replied coolly.

"You know what?" Tono stated steadily. "You're right, and I'll admit it. But if I'm stupid, then you're fucked up beyond repair."

She was too shocked to answer.

He pulled her closer, his voice softening. "Go find Tsubasa. Love him. Love somebody, Misaki. No matter what you've done over the past few weeks that you're going to wish you didn't, you still deserve it. I thought for a second that I might be the guy, but it just wasn't going to happen."

Misaki shoved him roughly away from her, took her coat, and slammed the door.

Tono stood for a moment before he was able to realize what was going on, then reached for the pack of cigarettes on the counter and shook one out into his palm. He took the lighter from the pocket of his jacket, which was slung over a stool, and lit a tiny flame in his hand.

"Brilliant," he muttered aloud with a frustrated puff. "Absolutely brilliant."

xx

He next heard her voice on his answering machine a week later. Her name showed up on the caller ID like it had done at least twice a day for the last few days, so he hadn't felt like answering the phone, but hadn't expected her to leave a message.

_"Hey, you,"_ she began, sighing. _"I know you're home, and I know you've been home all week, and I know you've been ignoring me. I really wish you wouldn't, because it's making me feel a lot guiltier, but I suppose you've got reason enough to hate me right now."_

Tono tried to tell himself he didn't want to listen, but sat on a stool by the phone and put his head in his hands, feeling terrible.

_"I guess I should just start by saying that I'm sorry." _There was a long pause; so long he almost thought she'd hung up. _"God, I'm so sorry. Really, truly, I hate myself. I can't imagine what I must have put you through."_

She didn't have to be that sorry. Here he was, ignoring her for no reason other than because he just didn't feel like having an important conversation.

_"I also think I should be saying thank you."_

He nearly laughed. For what?

_"Jesus, Tono, you don't know how much you've done. Thanks for putting up with me when I was emotional and fucked up and trying not to seem like it. You were so nice to me, you gave me a place to sleep and food and… well, you know what else, and I really didn't deserve any of it. I didn't deserve you, and don't try to tell yourself anything different because you and I both know it's true." _There was another pause, and a sort of rustling sound in the background. _"I love you. Dammit, I love you." _Against his will, his heart leapt. _"But in a strictly platonic, older-brotherly way, so don't be getting too excited."_

She laughed, softly. _"I know I really should be saying this all to your face, but if you won't even pick up the phone, I know you're not going to want to see me, and maybe I'm too much of a coward to even try."_

He thought seriously for a moment about picking up the phone and setting her straight, telling her that he was the one who should be apologizing, and that he wanted to see her, desperately, but he couldn't bring himself to.

"_If you ever feel like seeing me, I'd love it, but if you don't, I'll understand. But if it's the former, I'd also kind of like that shirt of mine back. Or you could just keep it, if you want. Whatever. I really hope you care enough to call me back. I think that's really all I've got to say, and it feels like this message is getting a lot longer than it was supposed to be, and I don't even know exactly what I'm talking about anymore, so I guess it's goodbye then."_

His hand shot out for the phone and grabbed it, but all he got was a dial tone.

xx

It had been almost seven years since then, and they'd been considerably kinder to Misaki than him. She lived in a nice neighborhood in a nice house with her nice husband who loved her to pieces. He was single, thirty-three, and living almost solely off of instant ramen.

She was beautiful, Misaki Harada was at twenty-nine. She refused to take her husband's name, thinking that hers rolled off the tongue much better. Tsubasa didn't mind in the slightest, of course.

They'd just moved into a larger house, with a pretty little garden and a big yard, near a good school, because their downtown apartment wouldn't be big enough for three come September. Tono had been invited to the housewarming party (because they were a nice family who did nice things like throw housewarming parties), being, of course, a close friend.

She never told Tsubasa what had happened between them that cold November. She never planned to. But according to her, he would understand.

"We were broken up," she explained one night when Tono was at dinner and Tsubasa was in the kitchen. "We saw other people. I don't have a grudge against what's-her-face who lives down the hall." He wasn't so trusting, so she had agreed to keep the matter secret.

He watched from across the lawn as Tsubasa caught her in his arms, whispering something in her ear and kissing her tenderly, and he found himself wondering for the millionth time how he'd react if he knew.

"Afternoon," he grinned cheerfully, striding towards them. "I brought wine."

Misaki heaved an exasperated sigh. "Thank you _so_ much."

"Oh, come on." He handed the bottle to Tsubasa, who silently set it on the table he was leaning against. "This is good stuff. It's worth the birth defects."

She laid a hand protectively over her stomach. "I love you and all, but you can really be an inconsiderate prick sometimes."

"Fine." Tono put his hands up in surrender. "I won't joke about disabled children anymore. Can I stay?"

Tsubasa chuckled. "Fine by me. I kind of have to go figure out the grill before Megane breaks the thing, though, so..."

"Why do people obsess over being able to char meat?" Tono wondered aloud.

"Why don't you?" Misaki quipped, taking a frustrated gulp of her juice. "You can char everything, you'd be king of them all."

He sent a tired glare her way, and Tsubasa cleared his throat. "I should probably get going now." He glanced towards Tono. "Please don't try and chat up my wife while I'm gone, she's almost six months pregnant and doesn't want to sleep with you."

Tono waved. "Great to know that's how you all think of me." He leaned against the spot on the table Tsubasa had just vacated, and together with Misaki, he watched him go. "Six months already, huh?" he asked absently. Flipping up a couple fingers, he did the math, and turned to her with a smirk. "Well, you two must have had a merry Christmas."

Her cheeks were flaming by now, but her voice kept the tone of polite conversation. "Yes, as matter of fact, we did. How was yours?"

He grinned suggestively. "Very merry."

"Good to know."

There was a moment of silence, which Tono broke. "Your stomach's never going to be the same after this. Shame. I'll miss it." He laughed. "And I don't even want to know what's going to happen to your-"

"Can we please stop talking about this!" Misaki commanded loudly.

His eyes widened, and he backed up a couple steps. "Sorry, sorry. Sheesh." He paused a few moments, looking around at the yard. "Nice place you've got here," he muttered quietly.

"Thank you." She looked up at him curiously. "What's wrong?"

He turned to her, his expression serious. "Look at you. He's tamed you."

"You wanted to," she argued. "Don't go talking about Tsubasa like that. He's done nothing wrong."

"I didn't want... Misaki..." Tono took her face in his hands. "I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you're happy."

She pushed him away. "I _am _happy. Really. I'm glad I settled down." Misaki met his eyes again. "Maybe you should give it a try."

"You know I'm not that kind of guy."

"You're not getting any younger," she pointed out. "Eventually, you're going to start going gray and get all wrinkled and there'll be a limit to girls who'll just hop in bed with you."

Tono raised his eyebrows. "Is that your reasoning behind getting married, then?"

"No." She looked up at him with simultaneous seriousness and innocence. "Love someone, Tono. Really love someone. It's worth it. I'm sorry if you can't comprehend that."

He shook his head, his eyes softening. "No, I understand." Swiping a brownie from an unattended plate, he leaned over the table and watched her amusedly. "Why him?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just curious. Why Tsubasa?"

Misaki smiled softly. "It's hard to explain."

"Give me a reason."

"Oh, I don't know." She looked up at the sky dreamily. "He's sweet, he makes me laugh, he's been there since he beginning, I've just gained twenty pounds and he still tries to get in my pants..."

"Well, good for him, then." He chuckled. "I draw the line at pregnant chicks. But I guess Tsubasa's just like that. No matter what happens, he'll still think the sun shines out your ass."

Misaki punched his arm lightly. "You're quoting Juno at me." She looked down at her stomach, and back up at him again. "I find that insensitive."

Tono shrugged. "I liked the imagery." He rubbed his arm ruefully. "When are you going to learn that when you do that, it actually _hurts_?"

She sighed. "You know, sometimes, I wonder why I even like you."

He flashed her a winning smile. "You like me because I'm a scoundrel. There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."

"Oh, now don't even try to pull _that_ off."

"Just go with it, Misaki," he pleaded, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You know it's true."

She smirked. "Well, I think you're being a jerkwad."

"You've got spunk."

Her grin faltered. "You remember."

He laughed, and she blushed. "How could I forget?"

She looked away, cheeks flaming. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tono glanced around covertly to make sure no one was looking, then leaned closer and swiftly kissed her cheek. "Whatever you want it to mean." Misaki gasped in surprise, but before she could say something, he was already heading back across the lawn.

"Dammit, don't _do _things like that!"

* * *

Man, I am really glad this is up. I've been getting super obsessive over it.

And I really do love reviews, so...


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